


Nudum Pactum

by neonsign



Series: Protagshipping Week [1]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6312649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonsign/pseuds/neonsign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The point of everything they did together was that it felt good. Simple as that. As long as it felt nice and didn’t involve anything that would be hard to walk away from. Getting attached didn’t do anyone any favours, something both of them knew well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Day 1:**  
>  **Alexithymia** is a personality construct characterized by the sub-clinical inability to identify and describe emotions in the self. The core characteristics of alexithymia are marked dysfunction in emotional awareness, social attachment, and interpersonal relating. Furthermore, individuals suffering from alexithymia also have difficulty in distinguishing and appreciating the emotions of others, which is thought to lead to unempathic and ineffective emotional responding.[[*]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexithymia)
> 
>  
> 
> warning for alcohol use

Souji was a good roommate. Way cleaner than Minato was, but not overbearing about it. Sociable, but not in a forced way; their conversations were just as comfortable as their silences. His friends weren’t unbearable and Minato didn’t hate when he had them over – which thankfully, as much as he liked them, happened rarely. More often than not Souji was quiet and perfectly happy curled up on the couch with his laptop or a book.

As far as roommates went, Souji was everything Minato could want.

There was also their arrangement.

“Does that feel good?”

With Souji’s fingers in his mouth, Minato couldn’t answer. Trapped beneath Souji’s weight, Minato couldn’t move. Chest to shoulders, stomach to back, pressing him into the couch, and Souji was the one setting the slow, slow, agonizingly slow rhythm.

“You look good like this,” Souji had whispered earlier as he pressed into him, “so fucking good,” and now Minato had to wonder how good he looked right then, spit running down his cheek and eyes rolling back into his head.

Any noise he could’ve made was strangled by two of Souji’s fingers. In that old apartment every whisper was a gunshot, and with Souji moving as slow as he was, Minato wanted to scream. It was all he could do to tongue the fingers in his mouth, hoping it would plead for what his voice couldn’t.

And maybe it worked, because the hand holding his waist slid into the only space between him and the couch where his hips were raised, pushed back desperately against Souji. A jolt ran through his entire body at the slightest touch against his cock and Souji noticed, because Minato felt his breath of laughter in his ear: “You’re so sensitive.”

Minato almost smiled and bit down on Souji’s fingers just to get a little jab back at him.

Emotions weren’t supposed to be a part of their arrangement, but Minato kept noticing little things about Souji that were endearing. What Souji liked was seeing Minato’s composure break. Seeing that emotionless face soften in pleasure or twist in desperation. He liked being needed and wanted. He liked seeing Minato lose control and he liked being the one responsible for it.

And honestly, looking over his shoulder and seeing Souji’s heavily lidded eyes and parted lips, Minato understood completely. If Souji was feeling even half of what Minato was, then it was a miracle he was still holding on.

Minato wanted to say something to tease him back, but he couldn’t talk around Souji’s fingers. Even if they weren’t there, he was pretty sure he was beyond the ability to speak at that point. But it was still slow, slow, slow, so Minato sucked his fingers, arched his back, and begged without words for him to just please, fuck him and finish it.

And Souji obliged because at the end of it all, Souji was kind. He sped up, matching the rhythm of Minato’s tongue. Clearly trying to pace himself, but it must’ve gotten hard because he was making these desperate little noises in Minato’s ear that hinted he wasn’t so in control anymore. Minato reached between his legs, brushing Souji’s hand aside so he could better focus on other things.

Souji’s hand roved up and down his side, coming to rest on his hip where he massaged and squeezed, always so fucking _gentle_ and bordering dangerously close to the affection this arrangement wasn’t supposed to have. Sucking Souji’s fingers, jerking himself off, getting fucked until his eyes rolled – but Souji’s breath on his neck and moans in his ear that pushed Minato over the edge. He came with a whimper, throwing his head back against Souji’s shoulder.

He was still coming down from it as Souji rode out his own climax, still mindless when he pulled out and got to his feet to dispose of the condom. Without his warmth, Minato’s sweaty back felt unpleasantly clammy. Collapsing and sleeping sounded good, but his hand and the cushion beneath him were covered in his own come, so he slid off to sit on the floor, blindly groping for his underwear with his clean hand.

“Get me a paper towel.”

“I am, don’t worry,” Souji said from over in the kitchen.

Minato’s boxers were just under the couch. He slipped them on a little clumsily with one hand before closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the couch. Only when he heard footsteps and felt something wet against his face did he open them again. Souji stood over him, holding out a damp paper towel. Minato took it and cleaned his hand while Souji used a second to wipe off the leather cushion.

“We gotta stop doing this on the couch,” he said. “Our friends sit here.”

Their arrangement had started with them hanging out one day, tongues loosened by a couple cans of beer in an attempt to stave off the summer heat. They ended talking about everything. Souji talked about his last girlfriend and how much he had cared for her, only to be moved away by his parents for the umpteenth time. Minato talked about never having been in a relationship at all, because – just because, he’d said, and he’d waved it away. Souji hadn’t pried but it was clear they were both a little jaded when it came to relationships.

The two of them talked about how hard it was to find someone when you weren’t straight, and bonded over the fact that it didn’t even matter at that point, because neither of them were in a place in life where they wanted someone. School, work, friends – they were young and being tied down wasn’t for them. Even living together was probably just a temporary thing. Once they were done with school, they really had no clue where life would take them.

And in the meantime they still had desires. Minato had made some half-joke about how frustrating it got and Souji gave him this _look_. A little bold from the alcohol, Souji leaned forward and put a hand on his thigh.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he’d said.

And now, a couple months later, summer was ending and nothing had changed. They had spent an entire season like this and no one but them knew.

“Hey, come here,” Minato said. Souji crouched obediently before him, looking a little confused until Minato reached over and fixed his hair. “It was sticking up.”

“Oh,” Souji said, smoothing his bangs pointlessly, “thanks.”

Minato nodded, a little confused at the feeling in his chest. A kind of… tightness he couldn’t place. Souji had thought Minato was calling him down for a kiss just then. More importantly, he’d been up for it.

Their arrangement didn’t really have any rules – at least none that they had discussed – but they had never kissed. Not once. That wasn’t to say they didn’t use their mouths, they just didn’t use them for anything so… affectionate. It didn’t bother Minato at all but every time they neared the subject it got a little weird.

“Oh, uh – I forgot,” Souji said, “but Yukiko and Chie coming over tonight. Just to let you know.”

Minato nodded and the two stared at each other.

Just as the silence became awkward, Souji headed back into the kitchen to throw out the paper towels and get a glass of water. After a moment of watching him, Minato got to his feet and gathered up his clothes to throw them in the hamper in his room, then headed into the bathroom to take a shower. He didn’t say it, but he had plans with his own friends that night. For more than one reason, it didn’t matter what the hell Souji was doing with his spare time.

Souji was a good roommate because he knew when to back off. Minato too. They had a good thing going and giving too much of a shit would ruin it. They weren’t friends. They were – something else. Not close, whatever it was.

 

* * *

 

“It means impotence,” Minato called over. Swinging side to side on the stool behind the counter, voice just loud enough to make him glad there was no one else in the flower shop. “That’s why all the flowers are dangling.”

“Really?”

Souji looked down at the plant in his hands. The little plastic tag sticking out of the soil labeled it lily-of-the-valley. Minato didn’t really care about flowers one way or another, but even he had to admit there was something nice about the little white blossoms. Souji put it back on the shelf and picked up another.

Minato turned his attention back to his handheld game. “I’m just fucking with you; I don’t know any flower language.”

“Shouldn’t you?”

Minato shrugged. “I know their names; that’s enough.”

“Then what’s this one?”

“Gardenia.”

Souji pointed to a nearby shelf. “That one?”

“Narcissus.”

“Hmm… That one?”

“Spiderwort. Don’t you have better things to do?” Which came out ruder than Minato had intended.

“Not until Yosuke gets here. The movie doesn’t start for another hour. That one?”

“Azalea.”

“How do you know them all off by heart but not the meaning behind them?”

“I don’t need to know flower language to work here.” Minato checked the clock on the wall. The manager would be back soon, so he should at least get some work done. He shut off his game and slid off the stool. Souji followed him over to a sink near the back where he filled up a watering can. There was something about the look on Souji’s face while Minato eyed him critically. “You know it, don’t you?”

“Hanakotoba, and bits and pieces of others.”

“Of course.”

“That bookstore that old couple run, the one you told me about, they had a couple books about it on sale. Got them out of curiosity.”

“What a boring thing to be curious about.”

Souji shrugged. “I’m a boring guy.”

“That’s not true.”

They headed to the front of the store and out the door. Being that it was noon in early September, the sun was beating down on Port Island Station with the kind of intensity that only happened in the city. The way the concrete reflected the heat right back up, it came at your from both angles until it was unbearable. Minato nudged the nozzle of the watering can under the leaves of a row of tulips, glancing over at the movie theater. From that angle he couldn’t see all of it, but there was no sign of Yosuke.

The silence wasn’t awkward, it was just a little weird that Souji was there at all and Minato hadn’t really been prepared for it. They’d never visited each other at work before, neither here nor at the café in Paulownia where Souji worked. Though if Souji was waiting to go to the theater across the way, then it made sense. Sort of. Just like their arrangement, Minato was just a way to pass the time.

Thumbing the leaf of a rosebush, Souji said, “It’d be nice to have some flowers back home. Brighten the place up a bit.” To which Minato just shrugged. “Do you have a favourite?”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment while Minato thought, vaguely noting the use of the word ‘home.’ What about it he was noting, he didn’t know. Just that he was noting it.

“Snapdragons.”

“Snapdragons?”

“Snapdragons,” Minato repeated simply. He held up his hand with his thumb and index making a pincer movement. “You squeeze the blossom and it looks like a dragon opening its mouth. It’s cool.”

“I see,” Souji said, mouth tight like he was fighting a smile.

Just after Minato turned his attention back to his tulips, crouching down to get some of the ones sitting on the ground, something touched the top of his head and he flinched, smacking it away. It wasn’t a bug like he’d instinctively thought, but Souji’s hand. He snatched and held Minato’s fingers for a moment before giving them a playful squeeze and letting go.

“You had a leaf in your hair.”

“Oh.” Minato touched his head dazedly. A bug would’ve made more sense. A bug would’ve explained his racing heart. “Thanks.”

Souji turned away. “Yeah.”

“Hey!”

The call came from above; Yosuke was hurrying down the stairs from the monorail platform, Chie and Yukiko following along behind him. As soon as he saw them Souji lit up, hurrying over and leaving Minato behind.

Turning back to his watering duties, Minato tried not to listen to them chattering way. He didn’t hear a thing about business courses or police academy and he definitely didn’t hear the rampant affection in Souji’s voice. Suddenly restless, Minato got to his feet, locking his knees and bending forward until he could feel the pull in his hamstrings.

“Minato,” Chie called over. “When’s your shift end? You wanna come see this movie with us? It’s supposed to be really good.”

“Hey, yeah,” Yosuke said, “come with us; it’ll be fun.”

Something hot and ugly he couldn’t place started prickling under Minato’s skin. Not once had he ever really given them reason to, but they were always so nice. All he was to them was their friend’s roommate and they knew nothing about what he and Souji got up to. If they knew…

Minato glanced at Souji, who remained as passive as ever and expressed no opinion either way. Hanging around outside of their apartment crossed the line into friendship, and friendship made their arrangement seem a lot more… something. Another thing Minato couldn’t put his finger on and all these unknowns were making him anxious.

According to the time on his phone, his shift ended in half an hour.

“Two hours.”

“Oh. Well, damn.”

Souji was still looking at him and Minato wondered if he knew. Either remembering some offhand comment about Minato’s schedule or seeing through his lie just by tells on his face – coming from Souji, neither would be surprising. There was probably some book on body language or something he’d read out of curiosity.

Like he was under some kind of spotlight, Minato felt his face grow hot. He turned around and went back to watering his stupid flowers. The sooner they all left, the better.

Yosuke snapped his fingers. “Oh, Souji – we ran into Kou on the train. He was asking about you.”

It was enough to turn Souji’s attention away from Minato and there was that prickly feeling again, returning worse when paired with the anxiety straining in his chest. They stood there and talked for a bit (Minato definitely not hearing about the big crush Souji used to have on this guy), until Yukiko pointed out that they should go in early and get good seats. With an easy and genuine friendliness, they all said their goodbyes to Minato and headed over to the theater, leaving Minato staring after them, feeling a whole lot of something.

 

* * *

 

“The cheese in the yellow package is better,” Minato said, leaning forward to cross his arms along the shopping cart’s handle. Yukari picked up a brick of it and looked from it to the one she was already holding. “At least, that’s the one Souji buys, I dunno. It’s good.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Nothing. Just quality, I guess.”

Yukari stared for a moment before tossing the cheese Minato had suggested back into the cooler. “I always get this one. Don’t confuse me.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

Yukari gave him a teasing smile. “Well, whatever. Thanks again for helping me today. It’s weird getting used to this kind of stuff. Feels all… grown up. And Mitsuru’s no help. She’s had people do this for her all her life, so I bring her to the grocery store and it’s like… she’s observing monkeys at a zoo. Well, that’s not entirely right, but – you know.”

Minato was the first person to bring Mitsuru to a fast food restaurant. He knew.

“I could’ve brought Fuuka, but I’m not sure I wanna give her more recipe ideas. Junpei’s out of the question, obviously. And Akihiko or Shinjiro… well. You never realize how weird all your friends are until you wanna do something normal.”

“Yup.” Minato bent forward far enough to rest his chin on his arms. Yukari lead him and the cart further down the aisle, stopping in front of a display of yoghurt. “Says a lot when I’m the one you wanna bring grocery shopping.”

“Well,” Yukari sighed absentmindedly, reaching for a container of plain vanilla, “you’re weird too, but you’re pretty grounded.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“How’re things going for you, though? It’s been a while since we talked.”

Minato shrugged. “Fine. School sucks, work’s work. Bought a new game I’ve been wanting.”

“That it? I thought you seemed to be in a better mood lately. I thought you were gonna tell me that guy finally picked you up.”

After a moment of silence, racking his brain for what they had discussed last they hung out, Minato stared at her, slack-jawed. “What guy?” First one to come to mind was Souji, but it couldn’t be Souji, because no one knew about the thing between the two of them.

“The – French one,” Yukari said, looking suddenly uncertain. “You said he kept coming by and hitting on you.”

“Wh- oh! Andre.” A university student that had been coming by off and on, going over centrepieces for a fashion show his school was putting on. “Yeah. I mean, no. He – did ask me out, but I turned him down. He hasn’t been around since –”

“What? Why not? You should,” Yukari said. Her sympathetic face was wasted on Minato; he just shrugged and unfolded the list she’s handed him on the bus ride over.

“Chicken and tofu,” Minato read off, using the pen from her purse to scratch off a couple items. Truth was, he’d barely even thought about Andre. Turning him down had sucked, but he seemed like the type who was in things for the long haul and that wasn’t what Minato was looking for.

“It’d be good for you,” Yukari said. Stern, but not unkind.

Minato waved the list. “Chicken and tofu.”

Sighing, Yukari turned on her heel and they continued their shopping. The subject wasn’t brought up again.


	2. Chapter 2

For something that defined their relationship – or lack thereof – they didn’t actually get together that often. Most of their nights were spent apart. They did hang out now and then (which was basically just them being in the same room and barely talking while they both did their own thing), but they never did… this.

They were sprawled on the couch with Souji between his legs, fully clothed and using Minato’s chest as a pillow. Minato had one leg up on the back of the couch, a hand on the back of Souji’s head, and he really hadn’t meant to but he was playing with Souji’s hair.

Basically, they were cuddling for the first time. And logically, it made sense. They were using each other for physical comfort, which in a way was no different than sex. But it seemed to follow the same lines that lead to them not kissing. Some kind of intimacy that was too closely equated to feelings. They were toeing dangerous territory.

Something in the movie exploded and Souji jumped, laughing at himself a little. The heroine onscreen had been scared too, jumping back and bumping into her male counterpart. Lo and behold, there was a moment of awkward sexual tension.

“Anyway, what were you saying?”

“What? Oh, nothing,” Minato mumbled, idly massaging Souji’s scalp. “It’s not that interesting.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Regardless of whether or not they should’ve been doing this, it felt nice. Feeling Souji’s firm weight and warmth, the way the barrel of his chest expanded with steady breathing, Minato couldn’t help but feel at peace. He slid his fingers down to the back of his neck, dragging his nails across his skin. Souji inhaled deeply, letting out a pleasurable noise.

“That feels nice,” he sighed. “C’mon, talk to me.”

Maybe Minato should’ve said no – or better yet, not brought it up at all. Cuddling and talking about their days probably crossed too many lines, but it was him that had started it, in a way. He’d been passed out on the couch when Souji came back from work (or class or hanging out with friends or whatever the hell else he got up to). Instead of moving to make room for him, he’d just lifted his legs so Souji could sit and he could rest them across his lap. And when Souji’s eyelids started drooping, Minato had patted his chest and told him to lay down.

Half asleep himself, it made sense. They were still just using each other. It was okay.

“I dunno. Uh… I told you the guy started crying on the phone, right? Yeah, he calls in and asks about our services, and his voice kind of does that thing voices do when people are about to cry. The guy just starts fucking _bawling_ and I’m like, ‘okay man, c’mon, I’m just a florist.’”

“Did you actually?”

“No, I’d get in trouble,” Minato sighed. “I just kinda… let him cry it out. Figured he wanted arrangements for a funeral or something. We get a lot of those. But, no. Turns out the dude’s crying ‘cause he cheated on his girlfriend and she found out. His big solution is just… to buy her a bouquet.”

“Wow.”

“Right?” Minato sighed, stretching his legs out, and Souji lifted himself up a bit to allow him more room to move. Together, they shifted down, lying even more horizontally. “I never really thought about it before, but a good portion of our customers must be guys like that. Sucks that I’m helping them.”

“You’re helping good people, too. Most of your customers must be older people, right? Middle-aged women that just like gardening, or – I dunno, husbands that don’t actually treat their wives poorly. Oh –” The music in the movie changed and then one of the characters pulled a gun on the other. Souji gestured lazily. “Knew that was gonna happen.”

“Yeah. But still, flowers are such a crappy gift. Useless. And unless they’re potted, they’re just gonna die. Sometimes even then.”

“Mm…” Souji turned his head, doing a little flip to get his hair out of his eyes. When he was done, the change had Minato’s thumb more on his cheek than just his jaw. Minato moved it down to his neck. Still seemed kinda… He tried his shoulder. That was better. “A lot of people dry flowers, though. I know my mom has a dried bouquet from, uh… one of their anniversaries. Can’t remember which.”

“Dried is still dead.”

Souji sighed. “Or you could be super negative about it, that’s cool too.”

“It’s what I do,” Minato said sleepily. He could feel Souji’s laugh in his chest. Without real thought, his hand moved back up to his hair, twirling a strand around his finger. It was always so silky. Dazedly, he lifted his other hand and touched his own hair. Coarser, but still kind of soft.

“I might come by again,” Souji mumbled. “I still wanna get some flowers for the apartment. Make it homier.”

The words may as well have fallen on deaf ears. Minato took a deep breath and closed his eyes, no doubt in his mind that he would be asleep within minutes. A warmth spread all through him, different than the warmth that usually came with touching Souji. This one was subtler, so feather-light it was barely there at all. But dangerous in its own way, since its very existence stopped him from fully noticing it as it took over and pulled him into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

They’d spent that whole night on the couch. While it wasn’t the most comfortable thing, with Minato’s leg falling asleep and Souji’s morning breath, Minato found he liked it a lot. And when Souji got up first, Minato found himself wishing he would stay.

The air was cold for a summer morning. He rolled to face the back of the couch, curling into a ball to keep himself warm. Trying not to listen to the sound of Souji going about his usual morning routine, trying not to realize how familiar the whole thing was and how he knew what Souji was going to do before he did it.

The point of everything they did together was that it felt good. Simple as that. As long as it felt nice and didn’t involve anything that would be hard to walk away from. Getting attached didn’t do anyone any favours, something both of them knew well.

Restless, Minato squeezed his eyes shut as if he could try even harder to fall back asleep so he didn’t have to think. As if he could grab the sleepiness at the edge of his mind and pull it over himself like a blanket.

 

* * *

 

Souji did end up coming by Minato’s work again. Minato used his negligible employee’s discount to help him pay for a gardenia that ended up sitting in the bathroom on the counter.

“Since it needs humidity,” Souji said, reading the fact from his phone.

Minato never helped him water it. The thing was annoying, brushing his elbows against it while he tried to brush his teeth or accidentally bumping into it and nearly toppling it as he exited the shower. More than once, he toyed with the idea of pouring some soapy bathwater into it to kill the damn thing, but it was just an idle fantasy. Even he wasn’t _that_ mean.

Besides, Souji ended up bringing back several other flowers, heading over to the shop while Minato was in class so that it was a surprise even to him. He never bought bouquets or wreaths or any of the other services they offered, only potted plants he had to keep taking care of. Amaryllis, a couple miniature rose bushes, and even an alarmingly large camellia.

Minato didn’t like the roses. He said they smelled weird and Souji made a face like he agreed but was unwilling to admit it.

“But that’s okay, because I got you a gift.”

From the brown paper bag he was holding, he extracted a tiny snapdragon plant, pale pink blossoms trembling with the motion. Minato crossed his arms and stared at them as Souji placed it on the kitchen table. Having just woken up from an unintentional nap after attempting to study, his brain was taking a moment to kick into gear. When it finally did, it wasn’t good. He frowned and tried rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Why? This is –” too much, he was going to say, but anything at all would be too much. Again, they weren’t friends. Just roommates. Roommates that occasionally had sex. But even without that, did roommates buy each other gifts? Was it a gift? “Why?”

“Because,” Souji said uncertainly, “this is your home too. I just thought…”

But it wasn’t a home, it was just an apartment, and making it a home was pointless because it never would be. They were only here until they finished school.

“Or maybe I should’ve got you a cactus,” Souji said, smiling a little bitterly.

“Wh-? Are you calling me a prick?”

“No. Nevermind. Hanakotoba joke.”

Minato chewed his lip, well aware of the tension he’d just created. “Well – anyway, it’s none of my business, but shouldn’t you take care of what you already own? Half of these are dying from either over- or under-watering.” Minato gestured to the window over the sink. On the sill sat the amaryllis, its long stalk looking oddly unbalanced with its large blossoms. “And also, I’ve been meaning to tell you, but amaryllis shouldn’t be in direct sunlight while they’re flowering.”

“Oh…”

What little excitement was left on his face vanished completely and Minato felt a little guilty, even though none of this was his fault. He tried not to roll his eyes. “Look, I’ll write out a list for you or something. Keep track of what should be watered when and kept where.”

Instead of modestly refusing, Souji grinned. “Really? Thank you!”

His good mood was almost infectious and Minato found himself fighting a smile. “Yeah, it’s not that big of a deal. But you should pay me or something. Feels like I’m bringing my work home.”

“You’re not just doing it out of the kindness of your heart?”

“No,” Minato said flatly.

Souji smiled and turned back to the snapdragon. “Fair enough.”

Minato watched him squeezing one of the blossoms for a moment and the warm feeling in his chest started twisting into something else. Between the cuddling and now the flowers, it felt like things were getting weird. They should be put back in their place. Easily defined, between lines drawn in the sand.

“There’s… a way you could repay me.”

It came out with less confidence than he might’ve liked but the way Souji looked over his shoulder at him, the point got across and that was all that mattered. He turned around, slowly, and leaned back against the table, his face giving nothing away.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Souji nodded and pushed away from the table. “Alright. Let’s go into my room. Like I said, we gotta stop messing around on the couch.”

His hand brushed Minato’s as he passed but he didn’t take it. They headed into Souji’s bedroom, much neater than Minato’s and always smelling faintly of citrus because of some scented oil thing he always had plugged into the wall. It was a scent he sometimes caught traces of on Souji’s clothes.

Souji closed the door behind him, the snap resounding around the small room, and took a couple steps closer until he was directly in front of Minato, just inches apart. Minato hooked his finger in Souji’s belt, tugging it undone.

“How are we doing this?” Souji watched Minato’s hands, doing nothing to help. The way his head was bowed put it beside Minato’s, mouth beside his ear. One of his weak spots, which Souji knew. But he didn’t kiss it or lick it or anything. Just spoke softly. “I’m up for anything.”

The belt fell open and Minato started on the button and fly. “Any preferences?”

“I thought this was about you?”

Minato shrugged. Souji’s pants were undone, so let his hand rove without a real plan. Up and over Souji’s chest, his shoulders and neck, where he tilted his head to the side, until Minato’s hand came to rest on his cheek. Then he leaned into the touch, very nearly nuzzling, his eyes never once leaving Minato’s.

“Then fuck me,” Souji said simply. As composed as ever as he turned his head and took Minato’s index into his mouth. From base to tip, sucking gently, just once. “I want you to fuck me.”

Already getting hard, Minato nodded slowly. “Alright.”

The hand brushed back into Souji’s hair and took hold. Souji didn’t fight it. He just lowered his eyes and watched as the other followed the same path in reverse. Fingers against his cheek, over his jaw and neck, down his chest, waist, hips, and – fingertips just under his waistband before slipping back out and grazing over his crotch. He let out a tiny breath of laughter.

“That was – mean,” he said softly, his voice jumping when Minato started palming him. Souji’s hands remained at his side, curling and uncurling his fingers like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Push your pants down,” Minato instructed. “Just a little.”

As soon as he obeyed, Minato wrapped his hand around him, stroking slowly and tightening the fingers in his hair. Souji sighed, leaning his head forward. Minato’s heart skipped a beat, thinking they were about to kiss – but they didn’t do that, they never did. Souji just rested his forehead against Minato’s and closed his eyes.

“Faster. Please?”

Minato couldn’t take his eyes off Souji’s mouth. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, leaving it slick and shiny, before his teeth came down and bit it. A tiny noise almost escaped and his whole body jerked as Minato smeared precome down his length. Like he couldn’t help himself anymore, Souji started undoing Minato’s belt.

“Hey, don’t,” Minato said gently, and Souji pulled his hands back immediately. “Not yet.”

“Sorry,” Souji breathed. His lips were pink and a little swollen from being bitten and Minato still couldn’t stop staring. They looked so soft. Kissable. He’d heard that word before but now he knew the meaning of it. Souji let out a shaky moan and leaned so far in their noses were touching. Just the slightest movement and they could –

“Get on the bed,” Minato said, turning his head slightly and taking his hand off him.

Souji opened his eyes, breathless like he’d just run a great distance. As soon as he noticed how close they really were, the shock was visible on his face. He pulled away a little jerkily, tugging his head out of Minato’s grip and stepping backwards until the bed hit him behind the knees, bringing him down to sit on the edge.

After a moment’s hesitation, he reached over to grab Minato’s hips and pulled him closer. Minato thought of shoving his shoulders back, climbing on top of him and just finishing it. That was what they were both there for. But there was something nice about the way Souji was lifting his shirt and dotting his stomach with kisses. Combing his fingers through Souji’s hair, Minato was reminded of when they spent the night on the couch. But that was why there were here, doing this. Getting their heads on straight again.

Souji started unfastening Minato’s jeans, pausing to look up and ask if it was okay. Minato nodded.

Cuddling on the couch or fucking in the bedroom, really, it was all the same thing. A ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ kind of deal. The reason Souji was leaning over and wrapping his lips around Minato’s cock was because Minato had jerked him off a little. The reason Minato had done that was because going straight to fucking would’ve been boring. It didn’t matter that Minato was Minato or that Souji was Souji; it could’ve been anyone. All that mattered was that what they were doing felt good. It was all just masturbation, in a way.

Souji’s tongue flicked over that spot on the underside of his head and Minato jolted, an embarrassingly loud gasp slipping out. Souji moaned and pulled him closer, deeper, by the hip. A hand trailed down the back of his thigh and up the inside and his knees grew weaker.

“Hey, enough,” Minato breathed, squeezing the back of Souji’s neck. “Enough, or I’m gonna…”

Souji made a noise of understanding and took his mouth off him to trail kisses up Minato’s hip to his stomach, bringing his hands with him until they lifted Minato’s shirt. Minato took the hint and lifted it over his head, tossing it to the side, and Souji did the same. They both kicked off their pants and Souji pulled Minato with him as they moved backwards across the bed.

Poised above someone on your hands and knees, the next logical move would be to lean down and kiss them. Lower yourself, press against them. It was one of the most basic parts of foreplay. Usually people did it while doing other things, too, no big deal. But Souji and Minato didn’t. They never kissed. Still, as Souji reached for the lube he kept on his bedside table (unabashedly out in the open), his eyes never left Minato’s and there was no doubt he too was thinking about how close they had gotten.

Minato held up his hand, two fingers out, and Souji squirted lube onto them, coating them and squeezing them in his hand to make sure it was warm.

“Teamwork,” he said, and there was a heartbeat before Minato laughed.

“Shut up.”

Souji grinned like he was trying not to, something that was easier when Minato pressed a finger into him. He closed his eyes and his lips parted, a faint frown crossing his face when the second was added. Minato stared at him, taking in every detail. Souji licked his lips again, drawing Minato’s attention to a faint scar he’d never noticed before.

Had Souji been in a fight? They’d never really talked about their pasts much because it didn’t matter, but suddenly Minato wanted to know. It just seemed weird. Souji wasn’t the type to get in a lot of fights. But Yosuke ran his mouth a lot, inviting trouble, and Souji would jump at the chance to protect his friends, so maybe that was it.

The train of thought was interrupted by Souji grabbing Minato’s cock with a hand slick with lube – when had it gotten more? – and pumping him until he was covered.

“C’mon,” Souji sighed impatiently, moving his hips, “fuck me.”

If they kissed, would he feel the scar?

“You’re ready?”

Souji nodded, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Other than himself, Minato had never met a more passive person, but when Souji wanted something, he really wanted it. When he liked it, he really liked it. He was a different person in bed; needier and more desperate. Licking Minato’s ear as he pushed inside him, pulling him close with hands gripping his waist and legs bent back, opening himself to him until Minato’s hips were flush against him.

Souji exhaled, long and slow, dragging his hands up and down Minato’s side. At a single look from him, simple nod, Minato started moving. Souji rolled his hips to match Minato’s. Awkwardly at first, but eventually they fell into an easy rhythm.

Something started building inside him, bringing him to a stop.

“What’s wrong?”

Minato didn’t answer. He turned his head and closed his eyes. This had happened to him so often he knew exactly what to do; if he inhaled slowly through his nose, then it usually worked.

He sneezed.

Souji stared at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Sorry –”

Souji reached up and brushed his bangs out of his face, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. He did the same to himself and his other hand. Checking for a fever.

“Souji…”

“Chie mentioned a bunch of people at the academy getting sick,” he said. He moved his hand to Minato’s neck, just under his jaw, to see if the temperature there was any higher there. “I think there’s some kind of bug going around.”

“Souji.”

“What?”

“Can you not do this while I’m balls deep?”

Souji’s hand dropped. He folded it with his other over his chest.  “Right. Sorry. Go ahead.”

Minato stared at him, not moving, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Souji turned his head, clearly fighting a smile, and the silence dragged on.

“Pfft.”

Until Minato burst out laughing, hand over his mouth to hide his grin. Souji started too, smacking the back of his hand against Minato’s arm.

“You’re so _weird_ ,” Minato sighed, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t think so when we first met, but the more I get to know you, you’re so… You and your stupid fucking flowers and –”

Souji’s hands slid up, over and around his shoulders, and pulled Minato down onto his elbows. His heart thumped painfully at how close their faces were and his laughter trailed off into nothing. Souji was still smiling, but it took on a different meaning as he circled his hips.

“You’re just as weird as I am,” he whispered. Minato let out a shaky breath and thrust in, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction when his smile faltered and he made a little hiccup of surprise.

“No I’m not.” Moving faster.

“You – ah, _fuck_ – are.” Souji’s breathing started getting shallower, but he held Minato’s gaze evenly, even if his eyes seemed a little glossy. “You are, but it’s what I like about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. _Yeah._ ” Souji’s eyes drifted closed, his lips parted, lost somewhere in a haze of bliss. “ _God_ , yeah…”

Unseen, Minato watched him. There was that tightness in his chest again, not good or bad, but making a little harder to breathe, mixing oddly with the electric warmth in the pit of his stomach and spreading down his legs. Beyond his parted lips, he could see Souji’s tongue working to form words he was too far gone to speak. Again, all he could think about was kissing him.

As soon as the thought came to mind, Souji’s eyes opened, unfocused and heavy-lidded. They met his and sharpened, holding his gaze until the thought of looking away left his head entirely. One of the arms over his shoulders moved between them and he began stroking himself in time with Minato’s thrusts. The other tangled itself in Minato’s hair and held him there, forehead-to-forehead and close enough to feel each other’s breath against their lips. Minato tilted his head, brushing their noses together. Already breathing the same air, he wanted to taste his tongue too.

The fingers in his hair tightened, tugging until it strained at the roots. Souji came with a shudder that ran through his whole body, his eyes never leaving Minato’s. The moan that caught in his throat alone was enough to make Minato do the same, pushing deep and biting his lip.

They collapsed together against the pillows, Minato remembering too late that Souji’s come was all over his stomach. But he was too tired to care, and the relief he felt at finally letting his arms and legs rest outweighed everything else. Souji idly stroked his back as Minato rested his head on his shoulder.

On the bedside table was a forget-me-not in a white ceramic pot. Minato stared at it, a long moment passing in silence, measured by the number of times Souji’s fingers moved from his shoulder blades to the small of his back.

“We should probably shower,” Souji said softly.

“I guess.”

“Then – I’ll go first. But, uh… you can spend the night in here, if you want. Just – because that night on the couch was nice. I thought we could do that more often. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…”

Minato kept staring at the forget-me-not. The whole thing looked a little frail. Not enough sun.

“Do you want to?” Souji sounded uncertain.

Minato nodded. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

“So I wrote up the stupid schedule,” Minato said, tilting his chair back on two legs. He stared up at the water-stained ceiling of the laundromat, listening to the droning hum of multiple machines running at once. “I even colour-coded the, uh… plastic tag thingies according the amount of sunlight each flower needs.”

“Uh huh.” Junpei looked and sounded uninterested. “Dude, help me fold if you’re gonna just sit there. Your clothes might be done but mine aren’t.”

“He likes that kind of thing,” Minato went on, letting his chair fall forward with a clunk. He got to his feet as Junpei hefted an armful of clothes onto a machine and Minato began folding a pair of jeans. “Colour-coded, neat… you should see his notes for school.”

Junpei gave him some kind of look he couldn’t place. “So… things are going good on the roommate front, huh?”

“Yeah. He’s the best one I’ve ever had. Last one was a nightmare. You remember the toothpaste thing?”

“No kidding. You haven’t shut up about him since we got here.”

“Yes I have,” Minato said automatically.

“No… you really haven’t. No offense, but come on, man. It’s not like Souji’s the most interesting guy in the world,” Junpei said dismissively.

“Yes he is,” Minato snapped, realizing only after the words were out of his mouth that he should’ve worded his retort a little differently. “I mean – I didn’t mean that. I meant that Souji’s – he’s always saying that too, he thinks he’s boring, but he’s not. He’s subtle, you know? But reliable. Like – like a foundation.”

“Uh… okay? Can’t say I’ve really given that much thought to the guy.”

Which just made it sound like Minato spent all his time sitting around thinking about Souji, and he definitely didn’t do that. Panic or irritation or something – something hot and tense was building in Minato’s chest and making him restless. He tried focusing on folding clothes but the feeling was making him want to do… something. Not stay still. Run down the street, maybe. Run forever until he was collapsed in a ditch somewhere, too exhausted to feel so jittery.

But he endured, managing to only shift his weight from leg to leg and huff irritably.

The two of them folded Junpei’s clothes in silence for a bit. They only spoke when he got embarrassed about how casually Minato was folding his underwear, snatching them out of his hand and telling him to go away. Which he did, gathering up his own basket of folded clothes, but not before throwing a pair of freshly rolled socks at the side of Junpei’s head.

“Hey, Minato.”

He paused with his hand on the laundromat’s door, basket balanced on his hip. Junpei finished folding a t-shirt before fixing him with some smartass look.

“Good luck, man. I’m rooting for you.”

“With what?”

“Just –” Junpei rolled his eyes and turned back to his laundry. “Go away. You’re a real idiot sometimes, you know that?”


	3. Chapter 3

On the way back from a midnight run to the corner store, Minato started getting carried away. Through uninterested friends and him just being the way he was, he was usually able to keep his cool when talking about things he liked. But Souji indulged him too much. A comfortable silence and occasional questions gave him the opportunity to get too caught up in talking about something he was sure Souji did not give a shit about.

“They were insanely influential,” Minato was saying. “The genre is so reliant on what that band started that it’s pretty much divided into two eras: pre- and post-them. Bands now either recognize their influence, or try and deny it just for – I don’t know. Just to be contrary, I guess. But then they try and do something different just to set themselves apart and usually they end up sucking. Or end up in a different subgenre altogether. In 1997 they released their final album and the producer that, uh… worked on it, uh…”

Minato’s voice trailed off. Souji was looking down the street ahead of them, idly sucking on a Topsicle. At the sudden silence, he turned around and looked at Minato. “What about the producer?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Minato mumbled, switching the plastic bag he was carrying to his other hand. There were red lines across his fingers and they ached when he stretched them. “This is probably boring. Sorry.”

Souji shrugged. “I like hearing you excited.”

“Oh. Okay.” But the moment was passed, so Minato stayed silent and watched his feet. His heart was racing happily, but he didn’t really get why. There were dirtier things Souji had whispered in his ear. Could that even be misconstrued as dirty or was everything he heard out of Souji’s mouth tainted by what they had done together?

Minato sighed and glared at the ground. He could’ve punched himself in the face. He was disgusting.

“Actually, wait.”

Souji had stopped walk and was looking uncomfortable. Almost like he was in physical pain.

“Are you okay?” Minato pointed to his plastic bag. “You want me to carry that?”

“No, don’t worry.” Souji put the bag on the ground. “Look, uh… there’s something I… not to – make things weird, but…”

The Topsicle was melting in his hands but Souji ignored it. Minato waited, no doubt in his mind that this was where Souji told him to stop talking to him about post- and pre-whatever subgenres and producers Souji didn’t know the names of. Or to stop drinking orange juice straight out of the jug and yes, he _knew_ Minato did that. Just like he knew Minato kept turning up the AC until they were freezing and really, was he trying to kill all those stupid flowers? It was almost October, it wasn’t even that hot, why the hell was Minato always so hot?

Or – oh. This was where Souji told him that he finally started dating one of those many girls he was always hanging out with and they had to stop the whole casual sex thing. Also, she was coming over, so could Minato please not be home tomorrow after dinner? It would be awkward if they fucked while he played video games in the other room.

Minato switched the bag from hand to hand again and took a deep breath, bracing for whatever awful thing was coming his way. Souji looked just as awkward as he felt and swallowed the rest of his Topsicle.

“Okay, so –”

He slapped a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

Minato stared. “Are you okay?”

“Brain freeze,” Souji laughed faintly. He kept his hand on his forehead and took a deep breath, only opening his eyes when the pain had passed. “Uh, anyway…”

Souji stared at him. Minato waited.

“Nevermind,” Souji said.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Then I’m not moving until you do.”

Souji scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment. Katydids sang and somewhere in the distance, someone’s dog was barking.

“Okay,” Souji said flatly. He picked up his bag and turned on his heel. “Bye.”

“Hey!”

 

* * *

 

Minato yawned as he dragged his feet toward their apartment, the music from his headphones blocking it even from his own ears. The thought of his soft bed was the only thing driving him forward at this point. And maybe cuddling again, if Souji was up for it. They’d been doing that a lot lately. It’d be nice after the day he had.

Working at a Rafflesia was a lot more emotionally and physically exhausting than he ever could’ve thought. On top of the splinters and little cuts all over his hands that always had him wearing at least one or two bandages, it turned out that flower shops were pretty fast paced (when he actually did his work). Some of the customers could be downright demanding. The brides who had to have the perfect bouquet for their wedding day were probably the worst. Or mother-in-laws claimed the irises were the wrong shade and couldn’t they do something about that? What do you mean, no? They definitely could, she saw a program on TV where florists could change the way a flower looked with different _things_ they put in the soil.

But, he thought as he unlocked the door, it could’ve been worse.

“I’m home,” Minato called out, kicking the door shut behind him.

Positivity wasn’t his strong suit, but he was willing to try it out; he’d been in a freakishly good mood lately.

He lowered his headphones and looked around; Souji wasn’t in the kitchen or living room. His bedroom, probably. Or the bathroom. He wasn’t working that day and he didn’t have any classes. After taking off his shoes, Minato walked into the kitchen and stretched, coming to a stop in front of one of Souji’s flowers.

It was looking better. They all were. But the soil was a little dry, so he filled a cup in the sink and gave it a little water. The flowers weren’t his responsibility, but helping out was better than having to see the look on Souji’s face when he noticed they weren’t doing well.

“Souji? Hey, you home?” Minato walked through the living room, staring at the couch like he expected Souji to materialize. Reading a book like he always was, or looking at pictures of animals on his phone. And he would always turn it around so Minato could see and they’d both nod approvingly. “Guess what? That crying guy came back today. And… but… there was a widow, too.”

Minato rapped his knuckle against the bathroom door. No answer, so he pushed it open. Souji wasn’t in there. The stupid gardenia was, though. Flowers everywhere and the whole apartment smelled like them.

“Rather deal with a cheater than a widow,” Minato said, closing the door. Speaking a little loudly so Souji could hear him, pushing away from an encroaching uneasiness. “People planning for a funeral, their orders are always generally the same, so it’s easy, but… I dunno. It’s heavy, you know?”

Minato walked over to their bedroom doors. He knocked on Souji’s and there was no answer. He knocked again before pushing the door open. Souji wasn’t in there. He wasn’t in Minato’s room either, though he didn’t know why he checked that other than desperation.

Souji wasn’t home.

Minato wandered aimlessly, coming to a stop right in the middle of the big empty space of the living room and kitchen. He felt jittery. Souji was supposed to be home. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t supposed to matter.

As hopeless as he could be when it came to emotions and acting like a normal fucking human being, even Minato recognized the hollow feeling in his chest as disappointment.  He’d actually been looking forward to seeing Souji. Not for sex – just to be with him, to fill his head with calm, happy thoughts until he could forget about the crying widow and how young she’d been. When it had become about something other than just sex, he didn’t know, but comfort was comfort and comfort was Souji.

Minato stood there for a moment, absentmindedly picking at a bandage wrapped around his index. Covering a small cut from a rosebush. There was no great moment of realization. No world-shattering epiphany. He just buried his face in his hands as the truth of the matter washed over him.

Minato really liked Souji.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he whispered.

If he was honest with himself, he’d known for a long time. Asserting over and over again that everything between him and Souji was meaningless had been some desperate attempt at staying in control.

He took a deep breath just as the front door opened and jumped, choking on nothing. Through watering eyes he could see Souji walk in and felt his face grow even redder, so he turned away, coughing into his elbow.

“Hey, you okay?”

As soon as the coughing fit was over, Minato straightened up and nodded. Souji smiled at him, just one corner of his mouth pulling back into something that looked incredibly forced.

“Are you?”

Souji didn’t answer right away, taking his time to remove his shoes, walk into the living room, and empty his pockets on the coffee table. His phone, wallet, and keys all landed with more force than usual.

“Yeah. Just went for coffee with my dad. He’s in town for a conference.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” And that was stupid to say, because of course he didn’t know; they didn’t talk about personal stuff. Souji had never said anything about his parents and what kinds of terms they were on. It had to be at least decent if Souji bothered to visit, but maybe not that great if he was this agitated by it. “Do you…” Minato shoved his hands in his pockets, covertly wiping off the sweat. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Souji regarded him for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s – you don’t have to apologize; it’s none of my business.” Minato watched him after he looked away. He looked miserable and somehow, it was almost as bad as feeling it himself. Maybe even worse. Some part of him wanted to run away from it, ignore it, it wasn’t his problem. “What about a hug?”

“What?”

Minato pulled his hands out of his pockets and spread his arms. “Do you want a hug?” Half in jest, half serious, and too shaky to pull either off.

Again Souji stared at him for a moment before answering. This time, his face softened into a gentle smile and he nodded once. He didn’t move, making Minato cross the room to him, eyes on the floor and feeling Souji’s gaze on him all the while. Before he could become overwhelmed by a proximity he used to think nothing of, he wrapped his arms around Souji’s shoulders, standing on his tiptoes lest he drag Souji down. He still did, a little.

Souji hugged back, arms around his waist; cautious at first, until he heaved a weighty sigh and squeezed, burying his face in the crook of Minato’s neck. Minato reciprocated, moving one hand to the back of Souji’s head and closing his eyes, willing himself to be entirely lost in the feeling.

There was that citrus smell. The familiarity of Souji’s body. And more unknowns. A simple thing, a hug, but he felt lost. Being this affected by parents, he couldn’t understand that. Platonic hugs as a tool for comfort – he couldn’t remember the last time he hugged someone. Unless cuddling counted. He couldn’t tell. Everything was so backwards between them; starting out strong and growing softer, but somehow making it more intense.

Souji straightened up. His arms slid loose until his hands were resting on Minato’s waist for just a moment, then he let go. Minato did the same with far less grace and now he was acutely aware of how awkwardly his arms hung at his side.

“Probably would’ve felt nicer for you if I was taller than you,” Minato half-laughed. Souji shook his head, the faintest smile on his face. Before he could say anything, Minato turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen. “Anyways, uh, I was thinking of ordering in for dinner. Do you want anything? My treat.”

“Oh – okay. Sure.”

Leaning sideways against the counter with his back to Souji, Minato pulled out his phone and started dialing for the Chinese place a couple blocks over. He didn’t have to ask what Souji wanted. By that point, he already knew what his favourite things were, though he did wonder just when he had deemed that information important enough to store away.

The floor creaked and just by his footsteps, Minato could trace where Souji was in the apartment. He was heading for the bathroom. Feeling anxious and tense, like he wasn’t even in his own apartment, Minato listed off their order to the person on the other end of the line, listening to the shower start up. It was going to be just another normal, average night spent with Souji. Just what he’d been looking forward to all day.

 

* * *

 

The problem was just as much realizing as it was trying to figure out how to act afterwards. Feelings changed so much of everything just by existing and Minato could no longer trust his own motivations. Everything left him feeling dirty and undeserving, as if he was some kind of creep with perverted ulterior motives all for feeling like he was being bathed in sunlight every time Souji so much as a smiled at him.

And Souji was smiling. A lot, lately. Or Minato was more aware of every single thing he did. They were just little ones, rarely any that showed teeth, but they were small and content. The meeting with his father hadn’t left him any worse for wear.

“Yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” Souji shrugged, waving a hand dirty with soil. A gentle breeze blew his hair into his eyes and he flipped it out of the way. “They’re just… my parents want everything and nothing from me and it gets a little tiring.”

Minato sat back on his hands, alternating between watching Souji repot his amaryllis and staring through the railing saving him from a several storey drop off their balcony. All he could see through it was buildings and people walking down the road. Souji was proving more interesting by far.

“Sorry for asking about it,” Minato said.

Souji shook his head, undoing what the hairflip had achieved. He didn’t bother fixing it this time and his hair hung in front of his eyes. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t bug me much, really. I have other family I’m closer with.”

“The uncle and cousin you always visited during the summer.”

“Yeah,” Souji said. He gestured toward the amaryllis with the small shovel he was using to heap fresh soil into a new pot. “My cousin’s the one that got me interested in gardening, actually. Uh… what about you? You never really talk about your family.”

A mark of how little they actually knew each other was that Souji didn’t even know that much. Minato cracked his knuckles and glanced out over the city.

“I don’t have any,” he said easily.

“Oh. Sorry for prying.”

“It’s fine. I mean – you’re not. We’re talking about it, is all. It’s fine.”

Souji laughed softly. “Okay.”

A silence stretched between them, during which Minato pressed his forehead to the railing and peered down at the street, watching people pass by. The sun was shining down, but now that they were into October, it wasn’t overbearingly hot anymore. More often than not lately, Minato found himself tense and nervous around Souji but at that moment he was completely at ease.

“So you’re… all alone,” Souji said softly.

Minato leveled him with a blank look. “Aren’t we all?”

“Hm.” Souji looked pensive. “Indeed.”

A heartbeat passed and Minato smiled as he looked back down at the street. “It’s no big deal. Can’t miss what you don’t know and you adapt to what you do.”

“You don’t remember your parents?”

“No specifics.”

“That’s too bad,” Souji said sincerely.

“It’s really not.” But Souji was still looking at him like the lost little orphan he thought he was. “I honestly don’t care. If I have to fill in the blanks on my own, they’ll just become what I want them to be and not who they actually were. I don’t need that. I’d rather just not think about them at all. There’s no point. They’re not here and it’s as simple as that. I’m fine on my own.”

It was more than he had been planning on saying, said with no emotion in particular. Souji turned back to his work, shoveling more dirt around the amaryllis, and there was another awkward silence.

“I shouldn’t have said that; you’re not on your own,” Souji said eventually. “You’ve got some really nice friends.”

It wasn’t worth saying that he could feel himself growing apart from them ever since life started taking them in different directions (or nowhere at all). That they were all growing, becoming better people and leaving him behind like people always do, while he remained cold and stagnant.

Minato pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. The sun didn’t feel so warm anymore.

“And… for what it’s worth, you’ve got me too.”

Souji pressed down on the soil around the base of the plant. Packing it down tight, but not too tight. Minato watched his hands, unable to look at his face.

“I know that we’re just roommates,” Souji said, “but it feels like we’ve been a little closer lately. Hopefully it’s not weird to say this, but I think of you as a friend. Ah, oops…” He jerked his head and his bangs gave a little feeble flop, but fell right back out of place. He held up his hands, covered in dirt. “Can you get that for me?”

Minato moved without thinking. Only when his hand was halfway to Souji did he think and it came as a simple and eloquent ‘oh, shit.’ Souji closed his eyes, one tighter than the other where his hair was poking him, and tilted his chin up, waiting expectantly. As Minato brushed his bangs aside, his thoughts were less of words and more of actions. He thought of letting his fingers trail down to caress Souji’s cheek, or to the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. They were all scenarios he didn’t have the courage to initiate. Everything they had done together and now something so simple was far too much.

“Thanks,” Souji said.

“No problem.”

Minato let his hands fall back into his lap, massaging it nervously with his other. He chewed his lip for a moment. “Uh – I do too. Consider you a friend, I mean.”

Souji smiled at him. Another one of the little ones. There might’ve even been a little colour in his cheeks. And the sun was warm again. The sun was pleasant and gentle, dancing on Minato’s skin and warming him up inside until he thought he might boil over. His heart was racing, his breathing becoming shallow, and he had to press his hands between his knees to hide the way they were shaking. It was stupid. It was so, so stupid, but he felt so good.

“You should hang out with me and my friends next time we hang out,” Souji said, brushing the dirt off his hands and getting to his feet. He held out his hand and Minato took it, allowing himself to be pulled up. There was no lingering touch like the fantasy his brain supplied; Souji let go as soon as he was standing.

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

Minato nodded, unsure of whether or not he should extend the same courtesy. Before he could decide, Souji bent down and scooped up his newly repotted amaryllis, nudging all his tools over to the corner of the balcony. Minato opened the sliding glass door for him and they stepped inside, and if there had been a moment between them, it was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter sucks ass, but i'm rewriting it, don't worry

The guilt hadn’t been a side effect Minato expected.

As October passed and the weather grew colder, they used it as an excuse to spend nearly every day cuddling on the couch.

“You know,” Souji would say as he pulled Minato down on top of him, “for warmth.”

And Minato never said no. Only nerves kept him from being the one to initiate it half the time, but he wanted it to happen. Looked forward to it, even. Lying together, it was easy to pretend things were that simple. He could close his eyes and think about nothing but the feel of Souji against him, his scent, the sound of his breathing and his heartbeat.

Cuddling was all they did anymore. It never went beyond, but the guilt kept nagging at the back of his head. At least, he assumed that was what that sharp, unpleasant feeling was. Like trying to get comfortable on a bed of burrs. No other word fit quite so well.

“Because he does feel guilty. It’s part of what makes him an interesting villain.”

“Yeah, him and every other villain with the exact same motivations,” Minato said. Sitting up on the counter, he pointlessly dusted off his t-shirt and picked at a piece of fuzz on his sweatpants. “If he felt that guilty, he wouldn’t do half the shit he does. No one’s making him.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes it is.”

Souji turned the heat down and placed a lid on the pot, stepping back to leave it to simmer. “The guy’s backed into a corner. He has no other options.”

“Yeah, he does: giving up. Giving up is always an option. In fact,” Minato said, watching Souji step closer, “I highly recommend it.”

With a hand on each knee, Souji spread Minato’s legs and stood between them. “You’re such a defeatist.”

“Saves a lot of time in the long run,” Minato said. “Guy should’ve just gone home, took a fucking nap. Nothing in the world is that big of a deal.”

Sitting on the counter placed him higher and Souji had to look up to give him – some kind of look Minato couldn’t really place. Doubtful, he supposed. “You’re never gonna get anywhere with that attitude.”

“That’s fine; there’s no where I want to go.” Minato let his head fall back until it hit the cupboard with a thud and looked down his nose at Souji. He bumped his knee against his hip. “I’m fine with where I am.”

Souji looked down, watching his thumbs idly massage circles into his thighs.

“Hey.” Minato gave his bangs a sharp tug. “Cheer up. What’s that face for?”

“Nothing,” Souji said, and Minato was just glad to see him smile again. “Don’t worry about it,” and there wasn’t much time to before a hand moved between Minato’s legs. With the sweatpants as thin and old as they were, they may as well have not even been there. But they were so worn soft that it was nice that they were. “I’m just thinking.”

Minato’s eyes drifted closed, his leg jumping as Souji’s hand worked. It had been a while since they’d done anything together; he hadn’t realized how much he’d been wanting it. Had he the capacity to, he might’ve been embarrassed about how hard he was already, but everything was feeling too good and he was just happy to have Souji touching him again.

“What are you thinking about?”

Souji’s pace faltered and when he spoke there was laughter in his voice. “Are you really asking me that? I didn’t think you were big on doing dirty talk.”

“I’m – no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Minato said, frowning a little. He spread his legs and made to touch himself where Souji’s hand wasn’t reaching, but he grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. “Something’s bugging you.”

“Everything’s fine.”

Souji’s hand slid under his waistband and Minato bit his lip at the slightest touch, leaning forward far enough to rest his forehead on Souji’s shoulder. From their time together Souji knew just what to do, where and how to touch. Between that and the little encouragements Souji kept whispering in his ear, it didn’t take long for Minato’s breathing to pick up. Souji’s rhythm responded in kind.

“Does that feel good?”

Minato nodded.

“Tell me.”

“It – it feels good.”

“Do you like it when I touch you?”

“It drives me crazy.”

Souji hummed happily and nuzzled against Minato’s neck. “Are you close?”

Minato nodded again.

“Good. Good, c’mon…”

“Souji, I –” Minato’s voice jumped with a swell of pleasure. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Would you – would you tell me if something was wrong?”

Souji didn’t answer right away and even in the state he was in, Minato could recognize his bizarre timing.

“Would you want me to?”

Minato nodded and draped an arm over Souji’s shoulder, using the other to hold his shirt up so it didn’t get dirty. “Yeah. We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah,” Souji whispered, the word tickling Minato’s neck. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

Minato pressed his mouth against Souji’s shoulder to muffle his moan as he came. Souji stayed with him, stroking him idly through his comedown. He could’ve happily stayed there, but Souji stepped back, holding up his dirty hands. The sight of it sped up his return to reality and he averted his eyes, tucking himself away like he was suddenly ashamed.

A heavy silence settled over them and Souji moved to wash his hands off in the sink. Minato thought of making some dumb joke about how this was even worse than the couch or – or something. Anything. But it all just felt so empty and pointless. The tightness in his chest was going to choke the breath out of him and he was going to die there, sitting on the counter in semen-stained sweatpants.

“And here I was worrying you don’t like me anymore,” Souji deadpanned.

Minato forced a laugh. “Were you?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while.”

“I guess.”

Souji looked down at his hands, picking at his nails, and the silence returned. Their first time doing anything since Minato realized his own feelings and it had to turn out like this. Souji wouldn’t know what the difference was. Minato watched him, looking for any kind of clue as to what he was thinking, but of course there was nothing.

Souji turned back to the stove to check on the food, steam coiling out as soon as he lifted the lid. Minato hopped off the counter and headed into his room, closing the door a little harder than necessary behind himself.

 

* * *

 

“There was that girl in your, uh… I dunno. One of your classes last year.” With drunken colour in his cheeks, Yosuke rested his chin on his hand gestured lazily. “What’s-her-name. What happened with her?”

Souji shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. She was cute.” Yosuke tilted his head and gave Minato a significant look. “Four years we’ve known this guy and he’s only had one girlfriend. Can you believe that?”

Kanji narrowed his eyes over the rim of his glass. “Why, how many have you had?”

Yosuke stammered something incoherent and Minato looked down at the plate of chicken karaage in front of him. This was, he supposed, his first ever ‘guy’s night out.’ At least that was what Yosuke kept calling it. The four of them sitting around a table at a small izakaya Kanji highly recommended, buzzed and stuffing their faces. Souji was across the table and their feet kept hitting each other’s. Not in a cute way or anything; in the same way that Minato kept bumping elbows with Kanji.

“Still, man, aren’t you… y’know, frustrated?”

Kanji stuffed an ungodly amount of food in his mouth, his cheeks turning pink. A sentiment shared by Minato, who no longer found himself able to look up.

“Not at all,” Souji answered easily.

“Ah, I get it.” Even though Minato wasn’t looking at him, he could practically hear the wink in Yosuke’s voice. “I knew all those girls’ numbers in your phone weren’t for nothing.”

Kanji snorted loudly. “Get real. Senpai wouldn’t do that.”

The beer in Minato’s system was making noises blur a little around the edges. Even so, all their voices were oddly isolated and he heard Souji’s snide response clearly. Saw the way he crossed his arms along the table and leaned forward on his elbows at the edge of his vision.

“You don’t think I would?”

And God, Minato just wanted to go home. He was drunk and tired, the food was greasy, the restaurant was loud, and he really didn’t want to sit here and listen to some kind of macho pissing contest that only reminded him he was just a notch in Souji’s belt – but one that had to be kept hidden.

“Bullshit.”

“You guys always think I’m so… model and good,” Souji pouted. “I can be bad too.”

Yosuke laughed. “Saying things like that doesn’t help your case. Minato, come on,” he said. “You live with the guy. Is he telling the truth?”

Minato really, really wanted to go home.

“I – uh –”

He knew he should make a joke. It was that kind of atmosphere. They were all in high spirits and if he didn’t joke, then he would bring them all down with him and he would be _that guy_ and ruin everything. Souji didn’t bring him along to hang out with his friends just so he could bum them out. But Minato wasn’t funny, he wasn’t clever, and they were all looking at him.

“Don’t put him on the spot,” Souji said, and his feet found Minato’s under the table. This time it was different; he hooked his feet around Minato’s ankle and dragged it over to his side of the table, just holding it there. “I lied, I don’t bring girls home. Sorry.”

“See? Too wholesome to do something like that.”

 _Something like that_. Something dirty and disgusting and shameful. Minato turned his head and watched the other customers, talking and drinking. Laughing and having a good time. He really wanted to go home.

“My love life is in shambles and I would appreciate it if you guys would stop poking at such a tender subject,” Souji said emotionlessly. The feet trapping Minato’s leg squeezed tight.

Yosuke laughed and dug his elbow into Souji’s side. “Hey, we’re just worried about you like any good friends would be.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kanji shrugged. “I think Senpai’s fine. He’s got other stuff to focus on, yeah?”

Souji made a noncommittal noise and rubbed his nose, glancing at Minato and smiling when their eyes met. Minato leaned back against the bench and munched on a piece of chicken, not returning the smile but Souji didn’t seem to mind at all. As shitty as everything felt, Souji was a cute drunk. It was good to see him happy.

Eventually the group’s attention turned to ragging on Yosuke instead of Souji, and all his disastrous attempts at getting together with various girls. And if only a little, Minato felt better. In some ways their dynamic was exactly like his friends’. The kind of needling bickering that came from being close to someone. But it just left him feeling all the more out of place, drinking faster than the others just for something to do with his hands. Their words from earlier were still ringing in his ears and when it was finally time to head home, he couldn’t help but be glad.

“But did you at least have fun?”

Minato stared at the floor of the train. It was late and there was no one else on, so both he and Souji had their feet stretched out into the middle of the aisle. Minato looked at them resting together and remembered the way Souji had held his leg under the table.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I guess I did.”

“You guess.”

“I guess,” Minato sighed, letting his head fall onto Souji’s shoulder. He was drunk enough that he could play it off on that, so it was fine. It was fine, too, when he reached for Souji’s hand and held it tight. “Just tired. Looking forward to sleeping.”

“Mm.”

Souji rearranged their hands to press Minato’s between both of his. He rested his head atop Minato’s too, and it felt so good that it hurt his heart more than anything else in the world. That, or Minato was just drunker than he’d originally thought. Getting up and trying to walk out of the booth at the izakaya had been a bigger struggle than he’d anticipated and now the gentle swaying of the train wasn’t helping at all.

“I’m sorry about what they were saying,” Souji said. “It was kind of awkward.”

“S’fine.”

They stayed like that until the train pulled up to the station nearest their apartment building. Minato followed Souji out and onto the street like a stray dog, no longer holding his hand. Just staring at it and dragging his feet, occasionally stumbling over uneven concrete. A couple times before they traveled one block, Souji had to turn around to make sure Minato was keeping pace with him. Eventually he came to a complete stop under a streetlight on the corner.

“How about a piggyback ride?”

“Okay,” Minato mumbled. With all the dexterity of a senior citizen he got down on one knee, nearly faceplanting in the process. “Get on.”

“I meant for you,” Souji said, touching the top of his head. “You’re pretty far gone. I forgot, you’re small so you get drunk faster. And you were drinking a lot. I should’ve said something.”

Minato leaned into Souji’s hand and closed his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Debateable. C’mon, get up.”

They switched positions and Minato climbed onto Souji’s back, his arms around Souji’s shoulders and Souji’s arms hooked behind his knees. He sighed and rested his cheek against Souji’s head.

“I’ve never had a piggyback ride before.”

“No?”

“Or… wait, maybe with my parents. Can’t remember, I dunno.”

“I see,” Souji said lightly.

“S’kinda scary,” Minato slurred.

“Don’t worry, I got you. You’re not gonna fall.”

Minato tried closing his eyes but that only made him feel worse, like he was on a ship in a stormy sea. A cool breeze blew, penetrating his jacket and making him shiver, prompting Souji to whisper gently that they were almost home. As nice as holding hands on the train had been, this might’ve been even better. Though it was getting to the point where Souji could’ve punched him in the face and just that skin-on-skin contact would’ve put him on cloud nine.

“Did you used to give your girlfriend piggyback rides?”

Souji bounced Minato up to get a better grip on him. “Sometimes? It’s not really something that happens a lot. Besides, she wore a lot of skirts, so even if it did…”

“Do you like that? Girls in skirts?”

“I guess…”

 “You’ll find another one soon,” Minato mumbled. The intention had been to sound reassuring, but he only managed bitter. “You’re a really great guy, so…”

“I don’t want one,” Souji said flatly.

“Why not? It’s convenient. You like girls and guys, so you can fuck guys in secret then end up with a pretty girl in a skirt. One you can hold hands with in public and not get dirty looks. You won’t be embarrassed to tell your friends about her, and… and I dunno. I’m tired.”

Underfoot, dead leaves crunched with nearly every step.

“That’s not fair, Minato,” Souji said. He sounded hurt. Minato had never heard him sound hurt before and an intense disgust with himself twisted in his stomach. “And that’s not what happened tonight.”

Minato didn’t say anything.

“It’s _not_. What was I supposed to say? ‘Actually, I’m fucking my roommate. He’s gay, by the way.’ It wasn’t the time or the place and I wasn’t about to out you in front of two guys you barely know. I’m not ashamed of you, Minato. Or what we’re doing or – or whatever we are, I dunno…”

Like putting alcohol on a fire, Minato’s emotions were flaring out of control and his eyes started to burn. Even as wasted as he was, he could recognize how embarrassing breaking down in tears would be. Thankful that Souji couldn’t see his face from that angle, he turned his head and blinked the tears away, smothering them before they could even start.

“Whatever,” Souji sighed. “How drunk are you? I didn’t think you were this bad.”

“I’m –”

Minato was slipping so Souji bounced him again. This time it sent his stomach churning and Minato burped in his ear.

“Thanks for that.”

“Sorry…” Minato’s voice cracked and he buried his face against Souji’s neck. “I’m so sorry… I’m really drunk.”

“It’s okay,” Souji said gently. “Do – do you wanna sleep in my room tonight? Not to do anything, but I’m kind of nervous leaving you on your own. I don’t want you to choke on vomit or anything.”

Minato nodded. “Okay.”

Their apartment building came into view and they made their way towards it, the orangey lights in the entranceway promising warmth and shelter from the cool autumn air. There was no one else in the lobby, or even in the elevator when it finally came. Minato barely had the capacity to be thankful. He was listening to the faint and dated pop music coming from the elevator speaker when Souji finally spoke again.

“I don’t think we should drink anymore. This all started with us drinking, too.”

Minato stared empty-eyed at the wall. “Do you regret it?”

“What? No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just… shit, I dunno anymore,” Souji sighed.

“Mn. I get it.”

“I don’t regret it. I mean that.”

“Me either.”

The door slid open. Souji stepped out into the hall and carried Minato to their apartment where they worked together to get the key out of Minato’s pocket and unlock the door. Once they were inside, Minato expected to be put down, but Souji kept holding onto him as he took off his shoes. Minato pried his off with his toes and they headed down the hall, into Souji’s bedroom.

Souji dropped him on the bed and fell down next to him. Both of them took off everything but their shirts and underwear and crawled under the sheets. After the noise of the izakaya, it was relaxing just to listen to nothing but Souji’s breathing and the ambience of their apartment.

“Sorry about what I said,” Minato mumbled. “The whole girl thing.”

Souji closed his eyes and draped an arm over his waist. “Thanks.”

Minato toyed with Souji’s hair, twirling a strand of it around his fingers. He brushed Souji’s bangs back and out of his face. Without the severe line defining his eyes, he looked younger and more innocent. Vulnerable, almost. But even in the face of the fondness warming Minato’s chest, what came out of his mouth was, “You sure do look like a goof without your bangs.”

Souji gave a little drunken giggle and pulled Minato closer. “Go to _sleep_.”

Minato let his hand trail down the side of his face, brushing the back of his fingers against his cheek. When they reached his lips, Souji grabbed his wrist gently, thumb against Minato’s rapid and telltale pulse. Each finger he kissed once before pressing them against Minato’s lips. They held each other’s gaze all the while, until Souji closed his eyes.

“Goodnight.”

“Yeah. ‘Night.”

 

* * *

 

Minato yawned as he dragged his feet toward their apartment, the music from his headphones blocking it even from his own ears. The thought of his soft bed was the only thing driving him forward at that point. And maybe cuddling again, if Souji was up for it. It’d be nice after the day he had. Work had left him with a new cut on the web between his index and thumb due to a clumsy slip with a pair or shears and a lot to think about due to a customer looking for some flowers for his wife’s funeral.

But, he thought as he unlocked the door, it could’ve been worse. Positivity wasn’t his strong suit, but he was willing to try it out; he’d been in a freakishly good mood lately.

 “I’m home,” Minato called out, lowering his headphones and kicking the door shut behind him.

“Welcome back!”

Souji’s voice sounded distant and echoed hollowly in the way that could’ve only meant he was in the bathroom. After taking off his shoes, Minato walked into the kitchen and stretched, coming to a stop in front of one of Souji’s flowers.

It was doing extremely well. They all were. But the soil was a little dry, so he filled a cup in the sink and gave it a little water. It was strange and he couldn’t remember when it had changed, but he had come to enjoy helping Souji out with his flowers. He’d never really been overly altruistic but it did feel nice doing something for someone. The little smiles he got when Souji noticed were just a bonus.

Minato walked through the living room, staring at the stuff Souji had left on the coffee table. His phone, keys, a folded newspaper with all the puzzles completed, an opened pack of gum, and a half-empty water bottle. All of it right next to Minato’s handheld video game and stick of lip balm.

“Souji?” Minato rapped his knuckle against the bathroom door. “Hey, what do you wanna do for dinner? I’m starving.”

“You can come in if you want.”

“Why… what are you doing?”

“I’m in the bath, it’s fine. Just kind of hard to talk through the door.”

When Minato pushed open the door, Souji raised his hand in a lazy wave, keeping his eyes on the book he was reading. The room was humid and steamy and smelled of the bodywash they both used. That was another thing that had changed; Minato couldn’t remember when they’d started sharing that.

“Do you always do this while I’m at work?”

“Sometimes I light candles. How was your day?”

Minato walked over to crouch beside the tub, crossing his arms along the edge. “I almost died.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah, look.”

He held up his injured hand and Souji lowered his book to glance at it, nearly dipping the pages (which Minato noticed were already partially wet) in the water. He held Minato’s fingers and brought his hand to his mouth, placing a kiss over the bandage as gently as possible.

“Great, thanks.” Minato rested his head on his arm, letting his hand hang and dipping his fingers in the water. The steam and the warmth were all relaxing him to the point where he could’ve fallen asleep right there.

While Souji returned to his reading, Minato gazed up at him and took in his profile. His eyes, nose, and lips. Water lapped against the tub as Souji bent his knees, and water dripped off Souji’s hair, landing on his collarbone and rolling down. Minato watched its progress until Souji swiped it away, absentmindedly scratching an itch.

“We had a funeral consultation today,” Minato said. Souji turned a page in his book and waited for him to continue. “Some old guy lost his wife.”

“That’s a shame.”

Minato slowly swirled a finger around the water. Souji must have been in there for a while; half the bubbles were gone. “He was cheerful the entire time. Kept saying stuff about how nothing could take away their time together and he didn’t regret a moment.”

“Do you not agree?”

“It’s not that. When…” Minato turned his head and stared at the wall. At Souji’s gardenia on the counter. “When my parents died, I never thought anything like that. I was just… empty. And I never stopped being empty. Seeing the different ways people respond to death just reminds me of all the ways I _didn’t_ respond and… I dunno. It’s no big deal or anything, I’m over it, it’s just weird to think about.”

Souji’s hand emerged from the water and squeezed Minato’s fingers. “Everyone grieves in their own way.”

“I guess. Have you ever lost anyone?”

Souji shook his head.

“Oh.”

“Only because I’ve never been close to very many people,” Souji said, eyes still on his book but not moving. “My friends now are my first good friends and the idea of losing them terrifies me. Not because I thought about them dying or anything, just separation in general. Although now I’m probably going to worry about them dying, so thanks for that.”

“Sorry,” Minato chuckled. Souji brought his hand to his mouth again and kissed his fingers. Minato brushed his them against his cheek and let them trail down his neck, causing Souji to tilt his head and make a pleasurable noise in the back of his throat. “I wonder if death brings out the kind of person you really are.”

Souji looked at him but didn’t say anything.

“Way I reacted probably says a lot about me.” Minato shook his head, dragging his fingers over Souji’s shoulder. “The way I’m still reacting and the things I’m doing a-and –”

In that small and tiled room, the sound of Souji moving became the sound of tidal waves. All he did was turn to face Minato, moving close, and Minato’s voice faltered. Souji cupped his cheek with a wet hand, dripping water down his neck, and leaned over the edge of the tub. He kissed exactly like Minato always imagined he would; gently but with a hint of something held back. Every time they parted he came back for another as if having second thoughts about letting it end.

The heat, the steam, a lack of oxygen, and Minato had to push at Souji’s shoulders lest he pass out. Cheeks red, he covered his mouth with his hand.

“Why –?”

“You looked sad,” Souji said simply.

That made sense. It was just more comfort. It made sense because that was what they were all about, so it _didn’t_ make sense that Minato suddenly felt like crying. He stared at the floor, touching his lips. They were chapped and that was what Souji was going to remember about their first kiss. Minato had no illusions about love and romance living up to the way they were portrayed on TV but it shouldn’t have been like this. Their first kiss was the same as their first touch, their first fuck, and it was fitting. He knew he would never get more than that. It made sense, but his heart was hurting.

“Hey.” Souji touched his chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to look at him. “Are you okay? Should I – should I not have done that? Sorry, I just… I don’t like seeing you sad and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Yeah,” Minato said faintly, still touching his lips and staring vacantly at the floor. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Um…” Souji turned his head, looking thoughtful for a moment with his brow creased. “Hey, uh… I don’t know if what you were saying was true or not, but you should know that I like you regardless.”

“What?”

“I like you,” Souji said confidently, but his cheeks were turning pink. “A lot. A _lot_ , a lot.”

Minato stared at him with wide eyes, his head completely empty like something had short-circuited. When he realized no response was coming, Souji kept talking. He crossed his arms along the edge of the tub and rested his head on them, bringing himself closer to Minato’s level.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. I think you’re a good person that had something awful happen to them, that’s all. Have more confidence in yourself. I… I think the world of you, and I wish you did too.”

“But –”

“Sometimes I… get the feeling you’re ashamed of what we’ve done.” The silence was answer enough. “Are you holding me to the same standards? I’m the one that started all this, right?”

“It’s different,” Minato finally managed to get out.

“Why?”

“It just _is_. I’m using you and you’re so good and kind and –”

“It was me that started everything, right? And Minato, what we’re doing isn’t a bad thing. Things just got… complicated.”

Minato snorted and it grew into gradual, nervous laughter. Souji smiled at him and he had to hide his face, covering it with his hands and sighing weightily. Everything felt like an out of body experience. Someone as familiar as Souji now may as well have been a stranger. That more than anything gave him the confidence (or at least a bizarre kind of detachment) to push himself forward.

“I like you too.”

“Really?” The excitement was audible in Souji’s voice. The disbelief, too.

“Yeah. I’m – I’m crazy about you, it’s… I don’t know what to do with myself half the time and…” Minato shook his head. He wanted to make some big speech to let Souji know just how fondly he thought of him, but he didn’t have the words. He wasn’t sure they existed at all. “It’s terrifying.”

“It is, a little,” Souji chuckled. He reached for Minato’s hands, peeling them away from his face to hold them. “I’ve been planning on telling you for so long. I had all these romantic scenarios planned out. I wasn’t naked in any of them.”

Minato laughed. “Yeah, maybe you should put some clothes on.”

“Oh? You don’t wanna come in? I’m getting awfully cold.”

“Not right now,” Minato smiled, resting his forehead against Souji’s. “But if you get dressed, I’ll take you on a date.”

Souji hummed happily and leaned forward halfway. Minato met him in the middle and kissed him like he was making up for all the kisses they had missed along the way. They had a lot of catching up to do.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're thinking the end was rushed and weird - you're right! i ran out of time lmao


End file.
